


2001

by ShadowsSmutHouse (ShadowoftheLamp)



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alien Biology, Breeding Kink, M/M, Mpreg, irken dib
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29228604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowoftheLamp/pseuds/ShadowsSmutHouse
Summary: Dib's given a treat- a chance to head over to the breeding facilities and have a fun time.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74





	2001

**Author's Note:**

> 'Shadow, do you have ANY porn that isn't somehow related to preg-' I have a _very specific niche_ dug out in this fandom and you can't stop me. Anyway, this is an au that never made it to tumblr because... well, I call it the breeding facility au, you get why I don't want that one around the Youths. Basically: Short irkens are used as breeding fodder instead of using cloning facilities- as soon as they reach a certain age, if they're under a certain height, yoink. 
> 
> Later Dib comes back for more, and then breaks Zim out and they go on the run together. (Zim's not allowed to even see any of his eggs hatch, so he gets pretty emotional when he's allowed to keep the next batch after running, poor guy)

Dib punched in the sequence that the computer at the desk had spat at him, and the door slid open. As soon as he walked in, it slammed shut behind him. A quick rap with his knuckles informed him that it was thick- likely to be soundproof. Well, he didn’t want to hear anyone else and he didn’t want them to hear _him,_ so that was good.

The breeder was standing straight on the opposite end of the room, watching him. Even for breeders, Dib was pretty sure this one was small- a full two head shorters than him, at least. Stars, it almost looked like a smeet, even though the number on the corner of its visor meant it had birthed enough clutches that it had to have been there for decades. It was probably just that he hadn’t seen many irkens that short, though, considering they pretty much all ended up… well, in places like this.

The number on its chest read ‘2001’. There was a bit of soft flesh spilling over the thigh-high stockings- a product of so many clutches, surely. 

“Hello?” He waved his hand, and it looked up at him, watching and waiting for him to make the first move. What was it the sheet had said?

 ** _2001 is over-enthusiastic and eager to please. Loud and a bit reckless, it will make your first experience one to remember! Don’t be afraid of breaking it- before becoming a breeder, they briefly worked as a scientist and nearly blew up their lab, so they can handle a little chaos._** Huh. Maybe he had to activate it somehow? He looked back down. **_Do whatever you wish and they’ll bounce back for the next clutch. Many who’ve used 2001 prefer to use the gag, which springs from the small red button in the side of the visor-mask._**

“So… 2001?” It nodded. From the antennae, Dib guessed it was probably a guy. They’d curl them if it was a girl, right? Eh, whatever.

“Yes, I am 2001. And you?”

“Dib.”

“Dib-Sir.” 2001 ran the name around in his mouth. “Diiiiib-Sir. I like it.”

“Oh. Uh… thanks.” Dib plopped down on the cushions, and 2001 settled down in his lap. “It said you used to be a scientist?”

2001 blinked. “I- yes, I was.”

“Really? What did you do?”

“Military research.” He tilted his head. “Most of them don’t ask about that.”

“Well, this is my first time, so I don’t know the rules. Do you not like thinking about it?”

“No, I- I was the best and youngest in my department!” A grin was spreading across his face, clearly thinking about whatever 'chaos' he'd wrecked. Dib liked that grin. He’d heard once that the breeders moaned but otherwise it was kind of like just fucking a pillow, and he didn’t really want that. He could just... do that in his quarters. “I was _good_ at it, you know!”

“Just were too short to keep on with it?”

2001 folded his arms. “If I’d just been a _few_ units taller, I could be out there helping the Empire spread across the galaxy, but _no,_ Zim just had to-”

“Zim, huh?” The breeder slapped a hand over his mouth, but Dib pulled it away. “No, I like it. Z-names are fun, they’ve got a pop to them.”

Zim puffed his chest out. “It’s a good name! It’s such a shame we have to use our numbers.”

“Zim is better than 2001,” Dib agreed, running his hands down Zim’s sides. “So, what does the visor do?”

Zim drooped a little. “It blocks my view. You can see my eyes, but I can’t see yours.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

He shrugged. “Control. Never knowing if someone’s going to scratch or thrust in suddenly can scare the other breeders. Not Zim, though, I’m never scared!” Zim pointed his thumb at his chest. 

Geez, for such an apparently experienced breeder he sure was bold. And here Dib had thought this might be boring. ‘Pillow’. Yeah, right.

“Mmm, I don’t think I want to do that.” Dib squeezed Zim’s hips, shifting his legs so Zim rested on his crotch. “The sheet said people use gags on you a lot?”

Zim nodded, before jolting up straight. When he spoke, his voice came out in that robotic way Dib had come to learn meant an irken who’d been programmed with specific triggers. _“Gags are available for all who wish to use them on breeders, to avoid any annoying begging especially if you prefer a new or particularly unbroken breeder.”_ He blinked rapidly. “Do you want one?” There was an edge of sandpaper in his voice, and he brightened when Dib shook his head.

“No, I actually kind of like your voice.”

“You do?” Zim cleared his throat. “I mean, of course you do!” He began to roll his hips, and Dib’s antennae twitched as something fruity spilled into the air. A glance up showed that Zim’s antennae were practically vibrating. Pheromones. “You said this was your first time?”

“Y-yeah- oooh.” Dib bit his lower lip as Zim’s rocking started to stir his length to begin to press against his leggings. Zim’s hands hovered over the top of them, asking permission with his eyes. “Yeah, take them off.” The fabric on Zim’s gloves was soft and smooth as vortian metal, and Zim rolled it down to his ankles.

“The boots too?” Zim’s left antenna popped up as he asked, and Dib nodded. Zim easily stripped him before easing himself back up, settled on Dib’s thighs. “Is this a good position? Do you want me on top?”

Dib opened his mouth before closing it, thinking for a moment. Zim was looking _down_ at him. Normally, Dib hated _anyone_ being in that position, but the grin still decorating Zim’s cheeks despite the twitchy efforts to reel it back was endearing. 

Why anyone would want a pillow when you could have _this?_ Much cuter, in Dib’s opinion. He kept exploring Zim’s body with his fingers, feeling the soft curves that were so unique to breeders. Even fat irkens tended to be more brick-like, one long rectangle, but there was a slight dip between the chest and hips in Zim, nearly hidden underneath the tunic. It was fascinating, and Dib wanted more of it. He carefully pulled the tunic up, over Zim's antennae and visor, the ID with his number discarded with it. Now there was only smooth green flesh, with a layer of padding that Dib immediately had to explore. He leaned forward to nuzzle his cheek against it.

“How many smeets have you had, Zim?” 

Zim’s visor whirred for a moment as he pulled the number up. “524.”

Dib could practically feel how every one of them made this perfect little body. “That’s a lot.”

“It is!” Zim beamed and gave a laugh that Dib immediately liked. “I’ve only lost six too, which is much less than most of those other breeders.”

“So when I finish, you’ll start growing batch number…?”

Zim had to think for a moment longer on that one. “Ninety. You're ninety.” 

“Ninety, that’s a good number.” Dib’s fingers dug in, and he held Zim in place. He didn’t realize he’d started drooling a little, and Zim grinned, tracing his fingers up Dib’s coat.

“You look awful hot, Dib-sir.”

“Just Dib,” Dib mumbled, but pulled his hands off Zim only long enough to peel the coat off and toss it across the zoom, immediately planting his hands right back on the breeder’s soft ass. “You feel good, Zim…”

“I- ah!” Zim bit back a yelp when Dib’s claws dug into his skin. “I am the best… you’re calling me Zim.”

“ ‘S your name, isn’t it?” Dib wasn’t sure if he felt this drugged because it was his first time dealing with pheromones or because it was a relatively small room and it concentrated the scent, but whatever it was, he was loving it. Zim’s eyes were like nebulas, and the grinding on his crotch was boiling magma swirling around his spooch and nether regions.

“It is,” Zim said, still smiling as he maneuvered Dib inside of him with practiced ease, like they were a perfect pair of parts that helped the universe run. Dib couldn’t hold back a moan, and Zim rested his hands on Dib’s shoulders.

“Oh, Dib…” Zim kept rocking and every movement pumped Dib’s cock, sweat dripping down his thighs to soak into the cushions. He was so warm, so _tight_ , soft and wet and molded just for him. Dib had never felt _anything_ like this.

“Zimmmmm,” Dib moaned, the hum of the ‘m’ making his lips buzz with the same bees that tangled up his spooch and his Pak. He wanted every moment to be like this, with Zim’s smile and Zim’s little pout and maybe he could sneak him out, maybe he could ask for an assistant, because he never wanted to let Zim’s voice and Zim’s skin and Zim’s warmth and Zim’s _Zimness_ go.

“I hope your clutch is big,” Zim murmured, right up to his antennae just as he ground down particularly hard. “So they bring you back and we can do this again.”

Dib exploded with a cry, feeling burst after burst enter Zim. As he watched, he swore he could see his stomach swell under the torso, just a bit. Zim smirked, riding Dib a little further until he’d milked him dry before carefully reaching over the cushion to rummage around. 

“What’s… that?” Dib asked, physical brain still somewhere around planet Meekrob.

"A plug. It helps keep the cum inside to ensure fertilization,” Zim said, placing it between his thighs and then sliding up his entrance. He was still flushed, Dib noticed.

“Did… you finish?” Was he supposed to ask that? Probably not, considering how often Zim had been referred to as an ‘it’ on the papers, but he wanted to see more of that smile.

Zim stared at him for a solid five seconds. “That… doesn’t matter.”

‘It does to me.” Dib patted his thighs, and Zim crawled over, his confident smirk fading to near-bewilderment as Dib started stroking up his antenna. “I don’t really- I only know what _I_ do, so tell me if this is weird.”

“This is…” Zim shook his head, but he was smiling again, one hand on his stomach. “You’re strange, Dib.”

“Yeah, well, takes one to know one.” Dib licked his gloves before stroking up the antennae again, and Zim pressed his thighs together. “They said they gave you to me because I only barely qualified to be ‘rewarded’ a session with a breeder, but I’d rather have you than one who was just a pretty little pussy with no personality, so who’s laughing now, huh?”

“You’d _rather_ have me?” Zim’s fingers tightened on his tunic as Dib’s stroking increased, and his mouth fell open, tongue hanging out as his eyes fell to half-lidded. 

“It doesn’t sound like you’re very popular,” Dib noted.

“They’re just… jealous…” Zim tried to scoff but was clearly still far too turned on for it to have much of an impact.

“With a record like yours, I’d be,” Dib said. “I’m sure our eggs will create wonderful smeets. Maybe even a Tallest someday, who knows?”

At that, Zim came with a moan, twitching under Dib’s hands. It was Dib’s turn to grin. 

“Hopefully I’ll see you again someday, Zim.”

Zim watched as he stood up, still clearly a bit dazed. “That would be… good. I wish you luck and the best of days, sir.”

It had a practiced cadence that Dib knew meant he’d said it a hundred times, but he was pretty sure the wink and the hand on his stomach was just for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos super appreciated, as always!


End file.
